Want
by Goodhumor-gal
Summary: What's it like to want someone that you know you can never have? H/Hr Angst


Want : A ficlet of Angst

I'm trying to pretend I don't feel this way.  That I don't want to reach for her hand and hold it in mine.  I'm failing at convincing myself that I don't want to sweep her off her feet, offer her a dance, and maybe a walk home later.  Heck it takes all my self-control not to grab the nearest napkin and scribble 'Harry Loves Hermione' on it.

Guys have always come and gone in Hermione's life.  Some have stayed for a while, attracted by her spirit, her kindness, her looks.  But eventually, they all found someone else to pine over.  Except for me.  The Boy Who Lived.  The Boy Who Loved.  The Boy Who Lost.

We're currently sitting at a party and the only thing I want to do is leave.  Music is blaring from the speakers and Ron has found some girl who tells him that she loves guys with red hair.  I've only had one drink, but already my vision is somewhat blurry.  The guys have always told me that I've never been one to hold my liquor.  The newspapers will have a field day tomorrow.  HARRY POTTER PUKES AT PARTY OF CENTURY.  It's honestly not a teriffic party, but the media will spice up anything to sell itself.

I find myself walking over to her just to say hi.  When I do, a smile lights up her face and my insides churn with a mixture of bittersweet happiness and alcohol.  She senses something is wrong and asks if I want to go home.  I do, but I won't tell her that.  I tell her I'm heading back by myself, that she should stay and chat with her friends.  I joke that beer and Harry Potter do not mix.  She gives me a sardonic smile and I'm off, waving goodbye to the woman I've secretly loved since my Hogwarts days.

I head back to the apartment, shedding my coat and shoes at the door.  Flopping onto the bed I close my eyes, wanting sleep to come and take me away.  Unfortunately, I seem to have run into a heap of bad luck.  All I see on my closed eyelids is her.  Swaying to the music, wine elegantly held in one hand, she's smiling at me.  She wants to dance and I can't resist.  We dance back and forth to the music, my arms around her waist.  Only after we've parted from each other does sleep begin to cover up my thoughts.  If true love is where you think about the person night and day, before you rise and before you go to sleep, then I'm head-over-heels.

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"Harry?" A voice rouses me from my sleep.  Opening my eyes I'm ashamed to see that it's Hermione.  I must look an awful mess from last night.

"One and the same." I groggily reply, sitting up slowly as the world spins.  She smiles and for a second everything is ok.

"You looked pretty wiped out at the party last night, are you ok?" That's Hermione, ever the comforting one.  I nod as she sits down next to me, her arms wrapping around my sloppy form.  I gently hug her back, trying to forget how good it feels to be like this.  It gives a new meaning to the cliché, so close and yet so far away.  Without meaning to, I let slip,

"Your hair smells really good." I take a deep breath and she looks up at me and gives a small laugh.

"Why thank you.  And you smell like…" I hold my breath.  Her nose brushes against my shirt as she finishes, "like soap," she pauses, "and alcohol."  I laugh,

"What a combination."

"Indeed." She says with a grin, and I can't help wonder if she means something else.  It's probably just my hormonal brain wishing that she were implying that I smell good.

"Thanks for coming over," I say, beginning to let go of her.  I hope she can't feel the remorse as my hands leave her sides.  She stands up and replies,

"For you Harry, anytime."  I smile and attempt to smooth out my crumpled shirt as I stand.  She heads toward the door and then abruptly turns around,

"Oh!  And don't forget, Ron's birthday is next week!  We're having a surprise party for him."

"Right," I say smiling, "Ron will be bugging me all week anyway."  She briefly comes forward to give me another hug and then backs out the doorway.

"Bye." She calls and before I can respond I hear the click of the door shutting.

Now I have two things to worry about.  And to follow my string of bad luck, they're both my best friends.

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"Harry hurry up!" Hermione has been on the edge ever since today started.  It may not help that today happens to be 1/3 of the trio's birthday.  "Ron's coming!"  I silently slip behind the couch just as I hear Lavender's voice saying,

"I'm so excited that you could come Ron."  The door opens and with a,

"SURPRISE!" We all fling out from behind our hiding spots.  On Ron's face is a look of pure shock.  A second later a huge Weasley grin can be seen and soon he's hugging everyone he can get to.

"Wow you guys!  This is teriffic!" Hermione smiles the widest, happy that she finally pulled it off.  It's hard to be sad when your two best friends are so happy, but somehow I manage.  I disguise it with a grin and hug Ron.

"Happy birthday Ron," I say.  He grins back and says,

"You bought me food, right?"  I give a genuine laugh and point to the kitchen,

"Of course!" In a flash he's gone to find all the snacks we bought especially for him.  I turn around and Hermione's at my side.

"Congratulations," I plaster my face with a smile, "you really pulled it off.  And not to shabbily either."  She smiles but I know that she's pondering something.  Somewhere someone turns on the stereo and in the background Ron shouts,

"Holey sha-moley look at ALL THE FOOD!"  Hermione and I both smile at each other.  She grabs my hand and we're dancing.  For a moment all time stops and I'm together with Hermione.  She whispers in my ear,

"I know something's wrong."  I attempt to interrupt but she continues, getting a tighter hold around my neck with her arms.  "You don't have to tell me.  But just for tonight," my breath stops, "be happy.  Just for one night, let's pretend that it's all ok." I nod slowly, knowing that tonight will be the end of my bad luck.

And we dance.  My hands are actually around her and they're not shaking.  We're slowly moving back and forth and she's smiling.  And I can pretend.  I'm pretending that we're not Harry and Hermione, two parts of a trio, but Harry and Hermione, couple of the year.  My gaze is locked on her and a wide grin stretches across my face.

"That's what I've been missing." She says softly and I can't help but smile even wider.  She leans her head against my chest and smiles.  For one moment in eternity, we're together.

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The party ends with a bang, literally.  Ron has seven people lined up popping corks off of wine coolers.  It's a shower of sweetness and I watch as Hermione happily squeals when some of the liquid hits her.  People begin to stream out and I smile at Ron and wish him another happy birthday.  Feeling bold, I reach for Hermione's hand and offer to take her back to her apartment.  She nods at me and my heart skips several beats.  It seems as though when this night ends I will be in the hospital under cardiac arrest.

I drop her off outside her door with a weary grin.  Giving her one last hug I tell her that she was amazing.  I don't even bother correcting myself this time.  She gives me one special smile, and then slowly shuts the door.  And then my pretend-world comes crashing down, and I am alone again.

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End file.
